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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25367305">Duvet Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgeheg002/pseuds/Hodgeheg002'>Hodgeheg002</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, TV references</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:22:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,900</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25367305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hodgeheg002/pseuds/Hodgeheg002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Scott just needs a duvet day with Grandma Tracy, comfort food and a box set.</p>
<p>Basically Scott and Grandma Tracy watching boxsets. Cross posted on tumblr.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Just leave me alone okay?!”</p>
<p>Alan stormed off, the tablet he had been doing his homework on abandoned on the table, and Scott sighed as he reached over to switch it off, exhaustion seeping into his bones. It had been a long week with tensions running high, and they had exploded with the force of a thunderclap that day. Somewhere Scott knew that Virgil was taking his frustrations out through maintenance on Thunderbird Two and Gordon had stalked off down to his usual sulking spot on the beach. Logically, Scott knew that they weren’t really angry at him, that they were just tired from the back to back rescues they’d been taking, but Scott was tired as well and logic was hard to hold onto when he was trying to juggle International Rescue, Tracy Industries and making sure Alan wasn’t as far behind in his class work as his school report tried to make out.</p>
<p>Now though, Scott didn’t know whether he wanted to try and sleep or just start crying. His emotions seemed to be existing in some sort of limbo where he couldn’t make up his mind as to what he felt, other than numb with fatigue. The tiredness was really his own fault; no matter how advanced technology was in 2059, reports were still unable to write themselves and Scott had been up until the early hours of the morning completing them so that he could help Alan with his lessons until a mission came calling- or, apparently, Alan stormed off.</p>
<p>To be fair to Alan, Scott’s plan was doomed from the start when he didn’t let Alan cool down after the breakfast bickering between Alan and Gordon billowed into a full blown argument that not even Virgil could have hoped to contain. That fact hadn’t stopped Scott from trying, resulting in both Alan and Gordon stomping off and Virgil throwing Scott a withering look as if to say ‘well that went well’, before skulking off to the hangars and leaving Scott to clear up and coax Alan out of his room to do his studying. Which, of course, had ended in a particularly spectacular disaster.</p>
<p>Scott sat at the table for a solid ten minutes with his head buried in his hands before something heavy landed on his shoulder causing him to look up to his grandmother’s smile.</p>
<p>“What’s up kid?”</p>
<p>Scott sighed again, looking down at the tabet. “I’m not really sure. They’re… I don’t know Grandma,” Scott mumbled, a wave of emotion suddenly crashing over him. “There’s so much to do, all the time, it’s relentless, and then this morning at breakfast-” he broke off and Grandma Tracy’s hand moved from his shoulder to his hair.</p>
<p>“I know honey. You’re father didn’t leave a particularly easy legacy, but the way you’ve risen to it makes me so proud and I know he is as well. However, I do think that you’ve earned yourself a bit of a break. What d’you say, care to join me watching some tv?”</p>
<p>Scott gave a watery chuckle. “Go on then. What are you watching?”</p>
<p>“Oh the usual,” Grandma Tracy promised, eyes twinkling and Scott grinned.</p>
<p>“Shall I go grab us some snacks?”</p>
<p>“You let me handle those.” Scott stifled a small groan. “You go set up the den.”</p>
<p>Scott stood and did exactly that, settling down just as Grandma Tracy returned with a tray laden with delicious looking baked treats and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.</p>
<p>“Where did you get all of this from?” Scott asked, incredulous. He knew that there was no way this had come from a supply run as Gordon had a habit of ‘helping’ put supplies away when they reached the Island in order to pilfer the best treats and stash them in his room. This selection of cakes and pastries would not have made it from Thunderbird Two’s hangar to the kitchen. </p>
<p>“I have my ways,” Grandma Tracy promised, passing a mug to Scott and sitting down beside him. “Alright then. Which series are we going for?”</p>
<p>“I thought we’d start from the beginning.”</p>
<p>“A wise choice.”</p>
<p>Scott leaned forwards to hit play, and all too soon the Gilmore Girls theme tune filled the den, and the two of them were whisked away to the idyllic Stars Hollow and the lives of the residents there.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was four in the morning and Scott wasn’t asleep.</p><p>He should be asleep, exhausted as he was from football practice and homework and surprise quizzes and helping his grandmother wrangle four younger brothers through dinner and the bedtime routine, but he wasn’t. Instead, he was staring at his bedroom ceiling desperately trying and failing not to think about the fact that the now previous day had been the first anniversary of his mother’s death and he didn’t know where his father was; a small, tiny resentful part of him didn’t really care. That same small, tiny resentful part of him cared so deeply.</p><p>So here he was, at just past four in the morning, not sleeping.</p><p>The night passed slowly and Scott wondered whether he should maybe do something more productive than picking out patterns in his bedroom ceiling to pass the time, but the thought of getting up and getting his tablet was too much effort to even contemplate. Eventually, the sky outside began to lighten in increments, the inky darkness giving way to a deep blue and finally merging into orange as the sun rose. It promised to be a beautiful day, crystal clear if cold, but Scott had entered the lethargic state of sleeplessness and didn’t appreciate its beauty. Instead, he found himself dragging his body out of bed with a heavy sigh, going through the motions of showering and dressing before slumping at the breakfast table. </p><p>Grandma Tracy watched him beadily as she helped Alan pour his cereal and milk into a bowl rather than on the table, pursing her lips into a thin line at the deep bags under Scott’s eyes and the waxy look to his skin. </p><p>“You alright chick?” She asked, resorting to the nickname she had bestowed on Scott as a baby and that Scott hadn’t quite grown out of. Scott looked up from where he was pushing his own cereal around with a start, before nodding once and dropping his head back down again.</p><p>“‘M fine, Grandma,” he assured her.</p><p>“Mhm. Tell you what, how about I drive you to school today with your brothers? Save you getting the bus?” Scott nodded again, but Grandma Tracy watched in alarm as his hands clenched and the glint of tears in his eyes became apparent, shoulders hunching up. “Scott, come help me with the laundry in the basement a moment? Virgil you watch Allie.” </p><p>She hurried over to Scott, chivvying him out of his seat and towards the stairs, shutting the door as they left the kitchen. She led him down the stairs towards the basement before turning to him, resting her hands on his shoulders.</p><p>“Alright Scott, what’s the matter hm?” Scott blinked, one of the tears finally falling, before he dissolved into sobs. His grandmother pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Eventually the sobs reduced the occasional hiccup, but Scott didn’t move out of his grandmother’s arms.</p><p>“I miss her,” he said hoarsely, and Grandma Tracy stroked his hair.</p><p>“I know you do.”</p><p>“And I miss dad too, even though I’m really mad at him.”</p><p>“I know, baby. He’s just… going through some stuff at the moment.”</p><p>“I am too, and so are the others,” Scott protested. Grandma Tracy sighed, before pressing a kiss to the top of his head, marvelling slightly at how she didn’t have to bend quite as far as she used to.</p><p>“I know, honey. I’m not saying that it’s okay he isn’t here, and of course you’re entitled to be mad at him- I am too,” she said, holding in a chuckle as Scott looked up at her incredulously. “But people handle things differently, and that’s what your dad is doing at the moment.”</p><p>“I just wish he was here. I wish both of them-” he broke off, choking on that desire with a gasping sob, and Grandma Tracy pulled him in for a tighter hug.</p><p>“I know,” she repeated. “Tell you what, chick. Why don’t you go back to bed, I’ll take the others to school and when I get back we can have a sofa day, how does that sound?”</p><p>“What about school though?”</p><p>“Scott, you look dead on your feet. Even if you did go to school today, I don’t think you’ll be learning much. It’s okay to take a rest day when you need one. You go back to bed, I’ll take care of the rest.”</p><p>“Okay Grandma,” Scott acquiesced, moving back out of his grandmother’s arms and beginning the trudge up the stairs and back towards his bedroom. Grandma Tracy watched him go, before moving the laundry from the washing machine into the tumble dryer and going to prevent whatever carnage the rest of her grandsons would no doubt be concocting.</p><p>***</p><p>Several hours later, once his brothers had been dropped off at school and Grandma Tracy had completed the necessary housework, Scott came tripping down the stairs. He’d changed out of the jeans and shirt combination he had put on originally for school, swapping them for a soft pair of tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie, and his hair was mussed but despite the apparent dishevelment, the shadows under his eyes had diminished somewhat and he looked better than he had when he came down at breakfast. </p><p>“Hey Scott, feeling  better?”</p><p>“Yeah, thank you,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously. Grandma Tracy opened up her arm in invitation, and Scott crossed the room to the sofa quickly, curling up next to his grandmother who tucked a blanket around him.</p><p>“Now, I know that it’s not the healthiest, but I picked us up a pie earlier whilst you were still asleep. What d’you say? Grilled cheese and apple pie as you missed breakfast and lunch?”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Scott admitted, and Grandma Tracy bustled off to get the food. Whilst she was gone, Scott fished out the tv buttons that were caught down the side of the sofa, flicking through streaming services until he found the one he was looking for, loading up the series before Grandma Tracy came back. He knew that they probably wouldn’t have long before she had to go collect Alan and Gordon, but there should still be enough time for at least two episodes, maybe two and a half.</p><p>Soon, she was coming back through with a tray laden with plates of apple pie, mugs of tea and the grilled cheese sandwiches. Scott sat up straight, looking forward to the one of the few things that his grandmother could actually cook, and waited for her to get settled before pressing play.</p><p>“Poldark? Excellent choice,” Grandma  Tracy commented as she passed one of the sandwiches to Scott. For the first time in days, a ghost of a smile graced his features.</p><p>“Well, we are having grilled cheese,” Scott pointed out. “Nothing goes better with grilled cheese than Poldark.”</p><p>“You are absolutely right.” The two of them settled themselves into the sofa, Scott leaning against Grandma Tracy, and the two of them lost themselves to eighteenth century Cornwall.</p>
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